Pawn of Wizards
by Experimenter73
Summary: This story tells the tale of one girl's fate as she becomes, unknowingly, a pawn in the politics of wizardry. A decidedly adult tale, at times quite graphic, and hopefully a tale of redemption by the end.
1. Prologue

**Prologue – **

Archwizard Lerrin Tocsell looked up from the work spread across his desk at the sound of the soft knocking. There, standing in the doorway was the portly shape of Stefan Ostwick, nervously ringing his hat in his hands as he looked into the tidy office. As the Arcane Brotherhood's Chief of Messengers, Stefan was responsible for the safe delivery of its goods, both magical and mundane, between its many buildings and outposts. Lerrin placed his quill in an inkpot with one gnarled and shaking hand, and affected his warmest smile.

"Please, do take a seat, Master Ostwick," The Archwizard rose partially from his own seat as he spoke, his back protesting slightly as he gestured to one of the chairs on the other side of his desk. "And many thanks for taking the time from your busy day to cater to an old man's needs."

"It is no bother, Archwizard." The jowly man went wide-eyed as he spoke. "It's an honor to be of service. How can I help you?"

"I have a rather important package to be deliv-" Lerrin began, and then narrowed his eyes as he was interrupted.

"Then you've called the right man, sir!" The Chief of Messengers blurted out, and then looked sheepish as the Archwizard tried not to let his annoyance show through. "I mean, I would be happy to personally deliver it wherever you might need."

"I am quite sure that won't be necessary." Lerrin spoke, shaking his head slowly as he forced his smile to return. "This particular delivery will need to be made tomorrow afternoon. Its carrier will need to be magically shielded from its contents, so I would need some preparation time with whomever you select in the morning."

"Of course." Stefan nodded. "I will rearrange tomorrow's schedule so that Timmons can be available for you all day. I will send him over first thing."

"Timmons," Lerrin pretended to think about the name for a moment, and then asked a question whose answer he already knew. "Is he your swiftest messenger?"

"No, Archwizard, though he's no slouch." Stefan shook his head. "He's been with me for nearly a decade now, though, and I'd trust him to deliver my children if the midwife went sick, if you know what I mean."

Lerrin laughed along with the chubby man at his little joke for a moment, and then pretended to look through some papers on his desk. Later, if the Chief were asked, it could be important that he believe the outcome of this meeting was his own choice, so the Archwizard was prepared to walk as slowly as possible through the exchange.

"I only ask, Master Ostwick, because the contents of the delivery will be very temperamental, and speed will be of the essence. The longer they take to make their journey, the less effective they will be upon arrival." The Archwizard looked up as he spoke. "If you feel that Timmons would be the best choice, I will defer to your decision. You know your staff better than I do."

"Oh, well, sure." The other man began, and then his face brightened. "If speed is so important, though, Ellywick might be the better choice."

"Ellywick?" Lerrin asked, pretending not to recognize the name.

"Yes, sir." Stefan nodded. "She is the newest to my staff, but gets through the city like no one else. It's how she got the job, actually. She just kept showing up every morning and beating my fastest messengers."

"Really?" Lerrin raised an eyebrow.

"Oh, sure. It was funny after a time." Stefan chuckled. "I'd hand out assignments in the courtyard, and she's be there listening. Then, she'd race off to the farthest destination, get there before whoever I'd sent, and tell the person waiting for the package that it would already be there if I'd hired her."

"That's very bold." The Archwizard smiled. "But why was she so intent on working for the Brotherhood?"

"Turns out she wants to be a wizard, herself, and hopes to attend the Academy. She figures that working for the Brotherhood might give her an edge while she saves up." The Chief of Messengers shrugged, and then added. "Of course, she's got an advantage over the rest of my boys when it comes to getting through the city."

"An advantage?" Lerrin asked.

"Sure, on account of her being a gnome." Stefan answered. "She can slip through places the others can't."

"I see." The Archwizard nodded, knowingly. "Well then, if you believe she is the fastest, then send her to me in the morning so that I can prepare her."

"Yes, Archwizard." The Chief of Messengers smiled as he rose from his seat. "She will be here."

"Thank you for your time, Master Ostwick."

Lerrin watched as the portly man bowed awkwardly and then left the office. He shook his head, not for the first time, at the complex plan that was laid out before him. Through painstaking use of Augury, after so many doors had been closed to him, he'd learned that the way to achieve his dreams would begin with this seemingly innocent step. He'd hired assassins, tried poisons and potions, and weaved countless curses; all to no avail. So now, he put his faith in the result of his magical inquiries.

Tomorrow, it would be done. This cryptic plan, the costly result of so many castings of such powerful magic, would be set in motion. He wondered, for a moment, what lay in store for the persistent messenger girl as he watched her boss close the door behind him, but then turned his thoughts to more engaging the more engaging matter of his future. Nothing and no one would stand in his way now.


	2. Chapter 1

**Chapter One –**

Ellywick cursed softly as another oafish human collided with her, nearly causing her to drop the sealed letter she carried as she worked her way through the bustling crowd. Making it through the gathered throng of petitioners in the palace courtyard was always the most challenging part of her daily route from the Wizards' Tower to the Arcane Academy on the other side of town, and today was no exception. Being a gnome in a human city, almost two feet shorter than its average inhabitant, was challenge enough on its own; a constant blend of mocking jibes, being treated like a child, and getting knocked to the ground when they didn't see her. Forcing her way past the desperate men seeking an audience with the Baron, each sincerely believing his problems to be more pressing than everyone else's, made her life all the harder.

But still, she'd come to embrace the advantages that her slender build and gnomish grace gave her in the city. She could make her way through crowds more quickly and easily than its common inhabitants, who rarely paid her any mind. It was that ease of travel that had resulted in her current employment with the Arcane Brotherhood, delivering messages and other goods between its many buildings and towers. It wasn't the dreamy life she'd imagined for herself when she'd struck out on her own and moved to the city, but they fed her and kept a roof over her head, and paid her enough that she could begin saving toward the life she dreamed of. Reassuringly, she patted the little bulge of her coin-purse where it was pressed between her thigh and soft woolen leggings. It wasn't enough yet, but it was a beginning. In time, it would be her admission to the Academy itself.

At long last, she pushed her way past the edge of the crowd and into the winding alley that weaved between the guild halls. The cacophony of the courtyard was replaced by almost perfect silence, save for the sounds of her soft leather boots on the stone street. At this time of morning, the guild district was always abandoned, its members either jockeying for position to air their grievances in the courtyard or hawking their wares in the Market Square. She picked up her pace, feeling as though a weight had been lifted from her shoulders as she left the crowd behind and followed the familiar path between the impressive buildings.

"_Veknara Endashi Ohklamm_" A man's voice suddenly began speaking from the shaded entryway of one of the buildings.

The words themselves were meaningless to Ellywick. But from her many hours spent listening in as the Academy students practiced, she recognized the pattern of speech and the intonation as that of a spell being cast. A quizzical expression on her face, she turned just in time to see a young, blond man step from the shadows, wearing the formal robes of an initiate of the Arcane Brotherhood. She took a half-step back, more confused than afraid, as he lifted his cupped hands to his lips and then blew out across them, sending a fluttering cloud of rose petals out to swirl in the air around her.

The magical energy of the cloud seeped into Ellywick almost instantly. She opened her mouth to speak, but was consumed by an overwhelming need to sleep before she could utter a word. The sealed missive fluttered from her hand to join the softly falling flower petals as she fell abruptly to her knees. Struggling to keep her eyes open, she tried to focus on the initiate as he approached, watching through her shrinking field of vision as he uncoiled a tasseled, rope-like belt from around his waist. She recognized the magic as a sleep spell, one of the basic spells taught to initiates, though this knowledge did not help her to resist its effects or to understand why it was being cast upon her. Her mind reeling, she sprawled forward onto her stomach, unable to remain kneeling or to keep her eyes open any longer as she succumbed fully to the magical slumber.


	3. Chapter 2

**Chapter Two-**

Tesloke Arginhane, Headmaster of the Arcane Academy, made the finishing touch to the last spell, and the symbol that he'd carefully carved into the wooden frame of the doorway began to pulse with magical energy. His work done, he stepped into the room to take in the sight of this sanctuary that he'd spent weeks preparing. He wanted it to be perfect for this momentous day. No, he needed it to be perfect.

Grinning broadly, he crossed to the center of the room and lifted one of the smooth bands of silvery metal from where it rested on the base of a stone pedestal, running his fingers along its etching. The metal was light and yet stronger than steel and remained cool to the touch regardless of the temperature of the room. A tremor of excitement ran down his spine in anticipation of what was to come. Placing his delightful creation back on the pedestal, he turned to stride from the room, his long robes billowing about him as he walked.

"Garith!" He called out, too loudly, for his loyal manservant had already fallen into step alongside him.

"Yes, Headmaster?" The old, stooped servant asked respectfully.

"Ready my carriage." The wizard ordered.

"Yes, Headmaster." Garith quickly replied before asking. "For a long or short voyage?"

"A short one." Tesloke answered crisply. "We're going into the city."


	4. Chapter 3

**Chapter Three –**

Ellywick began to wake, her mind fuzzy, as she felt something or someone come down on her back, pressing her into the cobbled stones of the street. She shook her head slowly to try and clear it, her cheek brushing against the cool stone beneath her. She was lying on her stomach with her hands by her sides. She tried to rise, but the weight on her back kept her in place. Turning her head and craning her neck, she saw that the initiate was sitting on her, and holding the tasseled rope that had been his belt.

"_Ekru Dentalla Osctrictor_" The initiate droned in that familiar magical tone, and then he dropped the belt onto her left hand before speaking in a normal tone. "Tie and knot."

The pinned girl gasped as she felt the belt spring to life, wrapping quickly and tightly around her wrist. While the first end continued to coil around its captured wrist, the other lashed out, whip-like, toward her free hand. Ellywick tried to pull away, too slowly, and felt it strike, enwrapping that wrist as well, and then beginning to slowly draw her two hands toward each other behind her back. She fought desperately against the inexorable pull of the ensorcelled rope, squirming and kicking beneath the weight of the initiate.

"No! Stop!" Elly cried out, feeling the sole of her boot connect with the man's lower back, and then hearing his grunt. "What are you doing?!"

"_Ashium Akkora Darsh!_" The initiate hissed angrily, and she felt him pinch her thigh wickedly as he incanted the new spell.

Elly took in a sharp gasp of breath at the pinch, and a tiny piece of wool, stolen from her leggings by his fingers and propelled by the magic of his spell, found its way in with the much-

needed air. She choked on it, dazed, as it seemed to expand in her airway for a moment. Taking advantage of the moment of confusion afforded him by this minor magic, the initiate grabbed her long ponytail and yanked back fiercely, lifting her face up off the ground. Before she could react or fully recover from his spell, he thrust a thick piece of rough wood between her teeth, forcing her jaws open wide and then tying it in place with leather straps behind her head.

Ellywick shook off the effects of the dazing magic, panic welling inside her, just in time for her world to plunge into darkness as a rough bag was thrust over her head. She screamed into the wooden gag in her mouth, barely recognizing the primal, animalistic sound of her own voice, muffled and distorted as it was by the wood and the bag. The magical rope on her hands finished its work as she struggled futilely, wrists crossed behind her now and wrapped in coil after coil of the former belt. She felt another rope go tight around her neck, holding the bag in place, and then the weight of her attacker leaving her back.

Moving quickly, she turned onto her back and then used her bound hands to thrust herself gracefully up onto her feet. She'd only taken her first step, however, when the rope around her throat suddenly tightened and brought her up short, choking. She nearly tripped as the initiate abruptly yanked on that rope leash, pulling her back to his side.

"We have an appointment with the Magistrate." He spoke firmly, drawing her up onto the toes of her boots with an upward pull of the leash. "You don't want to keep the authorities waiting, do you?"

Ellywick's mind raced. The Magistrate? Was this some sort of misunderstanding, then? She sensed him moving away from her, heard the soft whisper of his robes, and then felt the tug of the rope on her neck, quickly drawing her into step behind him. Walking blind was a 

terrifying and disorienting experience, and she struggled to stay close to her captor, her shorter legs moving briskly to match the quick pace he set. While she walked, she alternated between trying to slip her wrists free of the rope that bound them, and straining to reach its knots with her slender fingers. Each proved equally as ineffective.

Without warning, the initiate-turned-captor stopped, and she grunted into the gag as she ran into his back. She heard the sound of a heavy door creaking open, and then felt herself drawn into the room beyond. Even behind the face-covering bag, she could see the world grow darker as the door closed ominously. Her belly fluttered nervously as his hand came to rest on it through her light linen blouse. He slipped a pair of his fingers through the openings between the buttons that ran down the front of it to press directly into her flesh beneath, and then pushed her backwards until she came up against a stone wall.

Ellywick heard the rustling of robes again, and then whined into the wooden gag as it was followed by the rattling of heavy chain. Something pressed against her booted right ankle, and then there was the ominous click of a lock.

"These are a little big for you, messenger girl." The initiate chuckled from where she now realized he squatted or kneeled before her. "I guess they don't get too many gnomish prisoners here. I bet your little foot could just slip right out of this manacle."

Recognizing where he was by the sound of his voice, she considered kicking him while he lifted her foot off the floor. Bound and hooded as she was, though, she resisted the temptation. She felt the heavy cuff fall away from her foot as it left the ground.

"They don't have any smaller ones." He spoke softly. "But they do have larger."

After placing her foot back on the floor, Elly felt him adjusting her stance so that her feet were together. There was another rattle of chain, and then she felt the press of a new cuff around both of her boots, just above her ankle bones. She heard him grunt with the effort of closing and locking the thing, and cried out into the gag in her mouth, sputtering inside the hot bag, as the metal pressed painfully into her flesh through the supple leather of the boots.

"There!" Her captor proclaimed as the lock finally clicked into place, and she was left to stand awkwardly with her feet pressed together. "A perfect fit."

She panted hard through her nose, biting down hard on the wooden rod in her mouth, as she felt his hands slowly begin to work their way up her legs. He explored her with his fingers through the soft wool that sheathed her, tracing the shape of her slender calves, around her knees and then along the line of her thighs. She hated the touch of him, and pressed herself back into the wall in a vain attempt to avoid his caress. She tensed suddenly as his hands made contact with the coin-purse hidden beneath her leggings.

"Well, what have we here?" He whispered, a smile evident in the sound of his voice.

She cursed at him violently, the gag rendering her angry words incomprehensible, as she felt his hand slip up under the hem of her tunic, and then down into her leggings. As much as she despised the touch of his hand to the bare flesh of her thigh beneath the hose, it paled in comparison to the violation she felt as she heard the jingling sound of her hard-earned coins being emptied into his hand.

"Isn't that just an added bonus?" He whispered cruelly as he withdrew his hand, smoothed her leggings and tunic back into place, and then gave the now-empty coin-purse a little pat. "Now, just wait right here while I let the Magistrate know you're here."

Ellywick struggled to control herself as she heard him walking away, and then his passage through another door. She tried, unsuccessfully once more, to find the knots of the rope that bound her wrists, though she had even less hope of escape with her feet bound so tightly together. She tried to remain calm as she waited; focusing on the hope that she would have some answers soon.


End file.
